Page 80 of Fight from the Heart

“Later,” she whispers.

“Oh, and if my assistant happens to show up today, can you tell her I’ll be back later to thank you for her services?”

Pam’s eyes narrow. “What services?”

“When I was gone, I heard she kept things together for me. Holding up my social media presence like she does and even editing some chapters in case I wanted to work.” Theresa told me what Pam did for me. “I heard she didn’t take the money offered to compensate her for her time.”

Pam’s head lowers while she licks her bottom lip.

“I want to pay her for her time.”

Her head pops up. “Throwing more money at her?” Her lips twist, fighting a smile instead of chewing me out.

“I’ll be making payment in kisses.”

“Funny, I know a guy in New York who took those, too, for tour guide services.” Her smile grows.

“Interesting,” I tease. “I heard he went out of business because he wasn’t paid by some wayward tourist.”

“Goodness, I’ll have to have your assistant look into that. She’ll see what she can do to find the guy and pay up.”

Curling my hand about the back of her neck and bringing her back to me, I say, “I don’t want my assistant looking for any other man. Only me.”

“Only you,” she whispers before I take her mouth again, heating us up once more. My phone vibrates again. Dammit, Theresa might be the death of me. Then I reconsider as Pam’s the one jolting my heart back to life.

“Maybe we can consider some kind of trade. Tour guide. Assistant services. We could work something out.” I hold the nape of her neck as my sight skims over her face, taking in all of her like a photograph before I hit the road.

“You’re so beautiful in the morning.”

Her eyes hold mine for a long minute before I can’t take the heat. I’m so tempted to strip my clothes and get back under those sheets with her. Hold her tight and prove to her I’m hers.

My phone hums in my back pocket again—fucking Theresa—and the moment between us breaks.

“Bye, angel.”

She smiles at me, causing my heart to feel freer than it’s ever felt, and I step away from her with a final glance back at her in my bed, feeling the rightness of it.

+ + +

I drive a Cadillac Escalade SUV now instead of my fancy red Corvette, which doesn’t have the same flair as my sports car and guzzles gas, but I love the comfort of this beast. After a day of driving hours, dinner, and a two-hour presentation with questions and answers, I’m spent, but I meant what I said to Pam. I want to find her in my bed, so I start the trek back to Elk Lake City, especially after an ominous text.

We need to talk. Call me when you can.

The text haunts me as I drive. Is there any combination of words that sound worse? It’s like a death sentence to a relationship, and I feel sick. I don’t want us to be over before we truly start. The niggling sensation from the morning triples in potency. My gut keeps telling me I’ve missed something, and a sense of impending sorrow hovers over me like a dark cloud.

I’m living in one of my novels.

I tried calling earlier and excused her lack of response to her work. As it’s the beginning of May, the busyness of flower shop increases every day. However, it’s late enough she should be at my place. Maybe she isn’t there. Maybe she won’t be in my bed when I get home. Home. Pam is my home, but I want us both in that house. I’ve already slept without her for six weeks. I don’t want to do it ever again. It might feel like I’m rushing things, but I want her in my bed each night and morning, which means I want her to move in with me.

When I don’t reach Pam after another attempt, I decide to call my sister despite the later hour.

“Hey,” Ella greets me, her voice quiet.

“Hey. I hate to call so late, but I was wondering if you’ve seen or heard from Pam today.” I jump right in, sounding obsessive, possessive, and out of control because I’m coming out of my skin. Despite our lovemaking session, I’m still a little shaky where we stand. I know where I want us to be, but Pam’s right. We need to talk.

“Haven’t you heard?”

My tongue thickens. My mouth goes dry. “Heard what?” I bark, choking on the heaviness in my throat.